


Everyone gets a jumper

by Art3misiA



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mystery, Surprise Ending, The Slytherin Cabal's Twistmas 2019, Weasley Jumpers, twist - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21895687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Art3misiA/pseuds/Art3misiA
Summary: Every year, Molly knits jumpers for those she loves. This year, though, she is troubled.
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley
Comments: 17
Kudos: 28
Collections: Twistmas 2019 - A Dark Remix Xmas Fest





	Everyone gets a jumper

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Twistmas2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Twistmas2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Weasley jumper
> 
> For my final piece... a bit of mystery! Can you guess the ending?
> 
> This piece is not betaed - if it's riddled with small errors (I don't _think_ it's too bad, but I may have missed some!) I duly beg your indulgence and forgiveness <3

Molly Weasley watched from a secluded corner of the busy shopping centre as the woman strolled with her companion. The two looked every inch the loving couple. Arms around each other, laughing, smiling and staring into each other’s eyes. They stopped in front of a window to look at the products displayed within. He made a comment, and she giggled.

The street was adorned with festive decorations. Every store had hung lights and tinsel in their windows, and most had ornaments and figurines on display. There were santas, elves, reindeer, snowmen and even a nativity scene or two. Excitement and anticipation was in the air, and everyone was getting into the Christmas spirit.

The couple continued along the path. The man suddenly stopped and pointed above their heads. The woman followed his gaze, as did Molly. Mistletoe hung from an eave. The woman shrieked with laughter as her beau swept her into his arms, dipping her backwards. He kissed her soundly, and she responded by throwing her arms around his neck. Passersby smiled fondly at the canoodling couple as they walked around them, and someone shouted encouragement. Molly smiled, too. 

“Ahh, young love,” she said to herself. 

“Molly.”

She turned to see Arthur coming towards her with a happy grin on his face and his arms full of bags and boxes. Glancing across the street once more, she saw the couple had moved on. Arthur hadn’t seen them at all, bless him.

“Are you ready to go, love?” Arthur asked her. “If we buy much more, we’re going to run into difficulties. Too many Muggles about for us to use magic to carry it all.”

“Yes, Arthur. Let’s go home,” Molly reached for the most precariously balanced packages in her husband’s arms, relieving him of some of his burden. “I have those jumpers to finish knitting, anyway.” He pecked her on the cheek and they headed towards the hidden Apparition spot concealed a few blocks away.  
  


* * *

  
A week later, Molly was finally putting the finishing touches on the last jumper. This one was crimson red, with a delicate golden ‘H’ etched on it in an elegant cursive script. It was quite beautiful, if she did say so herself. Carefully, she folded it up and placed it to one side, then tidied up her knitting things.

“A cup of tea, I think,” she said to herself as she headed into the kitchen. She set the kettle to boiling and began to prepare dinner. A few minutes later the grandfather clock bonged. Molly glanced towards it and smiled. “Arthur!” she called. “Theo’s on his way!”

She and her family had suffered a great deal of loss in the second Wizarding War - far too much. They had gone through the motions, lost and shell-shocked, at first. But now, several years later, things were finally looking up. They all missed Fred dearly, missed him every single day. But six months after his death, George had pointed out that his brother would not want them all to put their lives on hold just for his sake.

“Fred would be disgusted with the lot of us right now,” George had said tearfully. “Look at us, all sitting here _stagnating_. It’s an insult to his memory.” From then on, they had been trying to honour Fred’s short life by living their own to the fullest. 

Now, all of Molly’s children had moved out and were married. Even Charlie had recently wed a nice Romanian girl. Ron had married Pansy Parkinson in the end, which had taken some adjusting to, but Molly had grown to love the fiery, passionate Slytherin woman like another daughter. The couple, along with Ginny and Harry, had each begun families of their own, giving Molly more grandchildren to spoil.

Molly and Arthur had formally adopted Theo Nott into their family following the war after he had lost his one remaining family member to the Dementor’s kiss, leaving him quite alone. She never could resist the urge to rescue an orphaned, vulnerable child — even if Theo wasn’t technically a child when his father was executed — but nevertheless, he was one of them now. He had ended up marrying Hermione Granger, thus keeping the Golden Trio more or less together.

As for herself and Arthur, after the war he had been promoted, easing their financial burden. On top of that, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was a roaring success and George insisted on sending his parents money each month, despite their repeated protests. All in all, they were doing quite nicely and Molly had to admit that it was lovely to have money to spend for once, and to be able to buy new things.

Arthur entered the kitchen. “Theo, you say? Wonderful!”

“Tea?”

“Grand, thanks.” Arthur sat at the table just as the back door opened and Theo entered.

“Hi Mum, Dad.” Theo glanced around warily. “Anybody else about?”

“Just us,” Molly smiled. She summoned an extra cup and saucer, placing it on the table. “Sit, have a cup.”

“Thanks,” he sighed gratefully, sitting down beside Arthur. They all drank in silence for several minutes.

Molly watched Theo carefully. Something was bothering him, she could tell. She could only assume whatever it was was the reason for his visit - and yet, he seemed reluctant to speak. She decided to get straight to the point. In her experience, there was no point in beating around the Shrivelfig Bush.

“Theo,” she said firmly. “What’s troubling you?”

“Troubling me?” he repeated, turning red. “Um. What makes you think that?”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Molly replied, fondly. “It’s obvious you’re here for a reason.”

“Tell us. Maybe we can help,” Arthur added kindly.

“Well, it’s— look, I don’t want to meddle in others’ affairs, you understand, but—” Theo twisted his hands nervously, a guilty expression on his face, as he stared into his half-finished tea.

“Is someone in trouble?” Arthur prompted, concern in his voice.

“No—not in trouble, no. It’s—” Theo took a deep breath. “I’m worried about George. And Angelina.”

Molly and Arthur waited, not saying anything, for him to continue. 

“Angie seems distant. I don’t know what’s happened, and I’m worried. George is trying to pretend like everything is normal, but I know it’s not.”

“And how long has this been going on?” Arthur asked.

“Well, I’m not sure exactly. A few months, I think. Every time we visit them, they seem… strained. They try to hide it, but I can tell something’s not right.”

Molly shared a glance with her husband, then looked back towards Theo, who looked torn. She thought of the couple she had seen just a week ago. “I’m sure whatever it is, they’ll work it out on their own or confide in someone, either separately or together.” she said, as reassuringly as she could. He nodded, although from his expression she could tell he didn’t quite believe her words.

“How is Hermione, dear?” she continued, hoping to get his mind off the subject.

At this, Theo brightened. “She’s great! Very excited about the holidays. She always says Christmas is still her favourite time of the year.” He stood. “Well, I’d best be off. Please - do me a favour, and don’t say anything to them. George and Angie, I mean. About what I said.” He tugged nervously at his robes.

“Of course not,” Arthur agreed. “”Like your mother said, best to let them sort it out themselves.”

“Right. Well, I'll see you next week,” Theo replied. “Will I bring anything?”

“Only yourselves,” Molly smiled. “I look forward to seeing Hermione again. Give her our love, won’t you?”

“Sure, Mum.” Theo moved around the table to plant a kiss on her cheek before leaving with a wave. Molly watched him go, tension she had hidden from the others lying coiled in her belly.

“Are you quite sure they’ll be alright?” Arthur asked worriedly.

“I’m sure everything is just fine,” Molly reassured her husband with a cheeriness she didn’t feel. “You know how hard it is being young. Everything will work itself out, you’ll see.”  
  


* * *

  
Christmas day was a hive of noisy, chaotic activity. The Burrow’s walls were full to bursting with all the Weasleys, including Bill, Fleur and Victoire, and Charlie and his wife. The two newest, smallest members were present, of course, and James was already getting into mischief. Molly fondly noted that the little rascal reminded her of his grandfather already, even though the younger namesake was only two. Currently he was rather forcefully poking his younger cousin Nova, Ron and Pansy’s first child.

“James Sirus Potter! Leave your cousin alone!” Ginny’s authoritative voice rang out across the room, and James scuttled away with a pout, to the general amusement of everyone else. 

Molly noted with some disquiet how subdued both Angelina and George were, although they both did their best to be merry. Angelina was watching the children with a strange expression on her face, one Molly couldn’t quite identify. Abruptly, Angelina looked up and saw the older witch watching her. A look of guilt flashed across her face and she looked down at her hands. 

“Angelina, dear,” Molly called across the room. “Could you come and help me in the kitchen?”

“Sure, Molly,” Angelina squeaked. She got up and hurried after her mother-in-law. 

Once they were alone together, Molly locked and warded the doors. “Something’s making you unhappy,” she stated without preamble. “What’s going on with you and George?”

Angelina looked for a moment like she was going to deny it. Then she simply sighed, sinking into a chair at the table. Her face crumpled, and her hands came up to cover her face. “Oh, Molly,” she wailed. “We’ve been trying and trying, but we just aren’t getting anywhere!”

“Trying to do what?” Molly pressed, sitting down beside her.

“To—to have a baby!” Angelina cried, tears now rolling down her cheeks. “But it’s just not happening!”

Molly nodded, taking the younger witch’s hand. “And how long have you been trying?” 

“Six months!” she wailed in despair. “I feel like it’s never going to happen! I want to go to a Healer, but George is refusing! I feel like he just doesn’t understand, it’s like he’s in denial, like he’s afraid of getting bad news. I’m afraid of bad news too, but I’d rather know than not know. I don’t know what to do, Molly!”

“Angelina.” 

She looked up, her eyes swimming with more tears.

“Babies take time. It doesn’t always happen right away. And six months isn’t long. If you and George had been trying for a year or more with no results, _then_ I would suggest considering a Healer. Just keep trying and relax. Have fun, enjoy being child-free while you can.” Molly smiled, patting her daughter-in-law’s hand kindly. “Merlin knows you’ll miss the peace, quiet and lack of mess once the babies _do_ start coming.”

“Are you sure?” Angelina asked, her voice hopeful.

“I’m sure. Just do what comes naturally—” She gave her a wink, “—and it will happen when it happens.”

“Thank you, Molly,” she smiled gratefully. “Thank you for listening. It really helped.”

“Any time, Angie,” Molly replied. “Now, I really _could_ use your help to get Christmas dinner laid out.”

Soon, the table was positively groaning with good things to eat. Molly called the rest of her family in, and there was a mad scramble as everyone rushed to take a seat and dig in. Ron argued with George and Charlie over who would get a leg of turkey, while little James immediately proceeded to make a mess of himself and his surroundings. Everyone was talking noisily over each other, laughing and having a wonderful time. It made Molly smile sadly. She knew something no one else knew, but it wouldn’t remain that way for long.

Finally, after the meal was done and the mess cleared away, everyone staggered to the living room, bellies full, to rest before exchanging presents. The soporific effect of the food wore off quickly, however, and soon the chaos began anew as everyone tore into their packages, exclaiming over what they had received and exchanging thanks. Included in everyone’s haul, of course, was a famous Molly Weasley jumper. She beamed as gradually everyone in attendance pulled theirs on, until they were sitting amongst a sea of brightly coloured, custom-lettered wool.

Later that evening, when the family had spread throughout the house, quite exhausted by the busy day, Molly ventured out to the garden. She had seen her wander out there by herself not long before. It was nearly time. She found the woman sitting on a bench underneath one of the trees bordering the property.

“Hello, dear,” she said, sitting down beside her.

“Oh! Molly! Hello!” she squeaked in surprise.

“Are you feeling alright?” Molly asked, her voice full of concern.

“Well, actually… No. I’m feeling rather... off.”

“Yes, I know. It’s to be expected.”

“Ex—pected?” the younger witch frowned, distress and confusion on her face. “What do you mean? Molly— did you _do_ something?”

"It's what _you_ did that has led us to this," she replied, regretfully. 

"I—don't understand."

“I _know_ , dear,” Molly replied in a confidential whisper. “I saw you with that man two weeks ago.”

“Wh—what man? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” her face was white as milk, and not just from the fear she must have been feeling at being caught out.

“He kissed you under the mistletoe,” Molly remembered. “He dipped you down, and kissed you in the street, and you kissed him back. How long has it been going on?”

She paused before answering. “Four months,” she whispered in defeat. “But, Molly, I never meant to hurt him, I _swear,_ it’s just—”

“I love my children - including my _adopted_ children - and would protect them with my life,” Molly said harshly. “He’s a good man, and you’ve betrayed him in the worst way! He’s gone out of his way to love and care for you, to be a wonderful husband.”

“Please—Molly, whatever this is—don’t do it, I beg you.” She was having trouble breathing now, coughing, gasping. But trying to fight it was futile.

“I’m afraid it’s too late. The curse has already taken hold.” 

“The.. curse…?” A look of understanding and resignation dawned in the young witch’s eyes. Molly waited patiently as she struggled. It wouldn’t be long at all now. 

A few minutes later, the woman slumped sideways, lifeless. Molly laid her body carefully down on the seat and stole back towards the house unnoticed. She would be discovered soon enough. Glancing back once more, she could see the faint gleam of the delicate golden _H_ in the moonlight. 

“Goodbye, Hermione,” she whispered.  
  
  



End file.
